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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551670">A Third Option</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/verywhale/pseuds/verywhale'>verywhale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Clown Sandwich [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Masks, Multi, Naked Female Clothed Male, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:02:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/verywhale/pseuds/verywhale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes in a threesome, you end up enjoying one partner more than another.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bounty Hunter/Grave Robber/Jester (Darkest Dungeon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Clown Sandwich [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Third Option</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The whole idea described in the summary is a throwback to a brief convo with @dan_dresdner, originally related to some other FF of mine which I still haven't written.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The summer’s been torrid, unbearable; heavy air precipitating in one’s chest and making it hoist from its load and exhale soundly on the verge of fatigue. It’s even more burdensome inside the barracks, where wet smacks and slurps and even louder gasps are like iron weights on one’s ears.</p>
<p class="western">The bleached ceiling swims and blinks in front of Sarmenti’s eyes as he throws his head back. But without seeing Tardif and Audrey and only hearing his grunts scratching behind Sarmenti’s ears, only feeling her tongue circling around Sarmenti’s cock, long but skinny; more mist lands on his eyes and more little shocks dance on his skin, and he hisses direly through his moans. No matter how much he’s sweating, his garb and mask stay on, under which, as one could imagine, his face is flushing red and shameful tears are running down his damp cheeks. Tardif has also kept his helmet and undershirt, but not the cowl; so Sarmenti could sometimes see a nasty smirk on his wide lips.</p>
<p class="western">He hears neither a gasp nor a chuckle, and slowly lifts his head. And so they are in front of him again; Audrey kneeled between him and Tardif, naked, her translucent skin gleaming with exudations, and her falling hair tickling Sarmenti’s sleek inner hips. Tardif stands behind, every thrust of his noisy and wet, driving half-stifled groans out of her, the heat of her mouth shuddering on Sarmenti’s cock. One of her hands is shuffling through Sarmenti’s hair, and another holding his own, just as scrawny and shivering as hers. And every so often he quivers and yelps, from any touch and sound and feel of theirs on his skin, in his head; and his other hand runs chaotically all over his face, unable to cover everything at once.</p>
<p class="western">Sarmenti catches Tardif’s look at himself, half-calm, half-mocking. The way how he sits—sweat-damp back against the wall, somehow not sliding down yet from all these shivers of his—and how Audrey has dropped her head and lifted her bottom, allows him to see Tardif almost fully, legs spread wide as he slams in her. The curves of her back and ass are soft and thin and barely twitching; a glaring contrast next to Tardif’s weighted body. Her eyebrows flinch every time he thrusts his fat cock in, swiftly, after slowly pulling out; and they both hear her let a short husky groan when he does it. Sarmenti’s knees are now keening, as if they aren’t laid prone and loose in front of Audrey, but just as bent on the rough wooden floor as hers, with Tardif’s weight behind. Tardif still laughs sometimes at how Sarmenti is thinner and tighter than Audrey, how he can feel his bones under his broad hands, and how his cock easily slides into him and makes him tear his throat. Sarmenti jams his palm against his mouth again—as even under the mask his whimpers and groans are so shameful and lusty that they are probably heard outside of this place. Tardif has mocked him about this too.</p>
<p class="western">Audrey puts her hand on Sarmenti’s bare stomach, skinny and sticky, wobbling at the same rate as her mouth runs along his shaft. He itches to put her hair away, so they won’t constantly tingle against his thighs, as just her breaths on his cock, or her fingertips on his abdomen, or Tardif’s stare at his twitching pose, eyes blinking relentlessly and not knowing where to look. But instead he grabs a bell on his hat, one of those jinging and shrilling together with him, and glances back at Audrey, or rather at her red rapid tongue swiping over his head. She’s almost chasing somewhere, and Sarmenti’s fingers roll in and out as his ears catch her breathy smirks and sucking noises. He remembers that Tardif is never that fast as she is. But even then Sarmenti doesn’t stop hissing and rolling from side to side, lower part of his body numb from pulsations and heat. When Tardif slowly sucks in, he almost robs Sarmenti of all air in his lungs, so his groans grow dry and almost turn to coughs—or to laughs.</p>
<p class="western">He doesn’t believe in mind-reading—but what Tardif does now sends a new shocking wave all over his nerves, ending in a long high-pitched yell. He leans forward, his wet undershirt against Audrey’s bare back, heady sweat of his hitting them both in the noses. She stiffens and stops, her lips still circled around Sarmenti’s cock, and lets Tardif grab her hair. And he stays lying on top of her, his other hand grabbing her breast, and she sways under him even faster with each of his thrusts, eyes squinted and slack mouth falling open with silent gasps. Tardif pulls her hair, and with a shallow keen she drops her head again, hollow wet gulps rushing one after another as she sucks even faster. Sarmenti’s elbow is now covering his view, already all throbbing unevenly like the pulse on his neck and between his legs. His grip on Audrey’s hand grows tighter, nails deep into her scabbed skin. Just as it would on Tardif’s back if he was mounting him alone, in the same damp barracks with no air to breathe in, but only sweat and fever. Sarmenti’s legs slide back and forth, all scratchy against the filthy floor. He’s pumping with weight—of Audrey on him, of Tardif on both of them, of this damp summer air, of merciless shame this pleasure brings him, forcing pained cries out of his throat.</p>
<p class="western">When Tardif backs out, Audrey also lets her mouth free, chuckles through panting. Her hair is brushing Sarmenti’s thighs again, and so do her cheeks and lips, running swiftly with soft smooches and smacks. She slides her hand under his buttocks, and Sarmenti already knows what’s coming next, and he’s already chained with shrieks and spasms, while Audrey giggles and Tardif snorts. She breathes shortly against his skin, red and sultry, when Tardif stands on one knee and spreads her ass and lowers his head. Unlike her, he doesn’t start with small kisses, and instead goes in quick and brash, all noisy swipes and slurps on her rim, his stubble prickling her so she whines and grunts. Exhaustion is in her voice, on her tongue and lips sliding slowly and raggedly over Sarmenti’s hole. Yet he lets go of Audrey’s hand and runs them both over his face, his chest, grabs and tugs his hat, and refuses to look, to catch any view. In his eyes there are just gliding shapes, racing and devouring each other. But in his ears there are still tired gasps and blaring slurps and nagging bells which are almost like laughs; and he can barely breathe.</p>
<p class="western">Audrey’s tongue thrusts in shallowly, but her hands are firm on Sarmenti’s hips, rubbing his skin with enough force so it echoes in all flutters that shake his body. In his mind, these hands are larger and press even further, so his skin wails before blooming with smudges of purple and blue. There must be the same very markings ready to spawn on Audrey’s skin. Sarmenti’s head overflows with steam and blood—from jealousy and contempt, and from those warm convulsions her tongue forces on him, and even stronger shivers and quivers he feels as he imagines another one to bury his head between Sarmenti’s legs.</p>
<p class="western">For a moment she stops—her fingers thrusting deep into Sarmenti’s hips, her mouth ajar, one final gasp trapped in her chest as she has shuddered and dropped on the floor. Sarmenti leans towards her in a rush, frowning as his pleasure is seeping away, and pulls her hair to see her face gleaming with bliss—all rosy, eyes rolled, mouth endlessly letting out gruff breaths. Then he looks up—at the stature of Tardif, half-bare, his lips glistening just as the cock in his fist. And his heart jerks sideways and a gulp stops in his throat at this sight, while his quivering legs unconsciously spread even wider.</p>
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